The pegasus’s nimble body trembled uncontrollably as a draft of icy wind blew in, encompassing the underside of the mare’s outstretched wings. A frigid chill shot down her spine as she glided through the air. Several painful, tingling sensations flowed up from the bottom of her hooves and into her thighs as she winced, the muscles in her forelegs cramping as they became numb.
As Spitfire’s wings drooped to her sides, she could feel an updraft of wind flow from beneath her as she fell. In all her years of flight training, she had not once gotten frostbite. Thus, she was unprepared for the devastating consequences of not showing up to ‘Flight Weather Safety 101’ class back when she was just a Junior Speedster in flight camp.
With the ground racing toward her, Spitfire gently closed her eyes and awaited the inevitable. It seemed only fitting for a pegasus to go out this way, especially one of her caliber. However, fate had already chosen another course for her, for she could feel something brush the exterior of her back legs as the weight of her body shifted.
When Spitfire opened her eyes, they were met with a kind and familiar set of emeralds that shone from behind a pair of flight goggles. The stallion’s sturdy forelegs wrapped around the underside of the mare’s torso as the pair floated toward a nearby cluster of cumulonimbus clouds.
As the mare’s hooves grazed the fluffy surface of the cloud, she felt herself being lowered onto it. Once her hooves were secure on the soft exterior, she turned to face her heroic rescuer. She was met with the humble, but rather proud face of Soarin, who beamed at her.
“Glad to see you’re alright, Spitfire,” said the stallion as he extended a hoof to the pegasus. “You had me worried for a sec there – it's unusual for you to take such a dive.”
Spitfire’s legs ached and her calves trembled as she rose to meet her former teammate, a grateful smile lit across face as she pushed her wild, tousled mane back behind her ears. “Yeah, I know. I guess I just lost control. Thanks for catching me by the way, I owe you one,” she said, bumping the stallion’s side.
“Well, you can make it up by buying us lunch. After that training session, I’m starvin’.” Soarin’s stomach groaned as he flashed a sheepish grin at the mare, who gave a knowing look in return.
“Sure thing, Soarin. Anything for a friend.”
“Great, cause I know just the place,” Soarin replied as he flapped his feathery wings, rising into the air. “It’s a little diner just west of here, in the heart of Cloudsdale.”
As the draft of cool air drifted over Spitfire, she felt a smirk creep its way onto her face as she watched the stallion hover in front of her. “I guess you’ll just have to show me the way, I don’t think I’ve been to very many diners.”
“Don’t worry, it’s not too far. Besides, they make the most amazing food there,” the stallion said as he turned his back to the mare, taking off into the air.
Spitfire watched as Soarin made for the horizon. Far off in the distance, a soft, pale glow formed from beneath a thick barrier of clouds and rose into the air. The first golden rays of sunlight graced the cloud layer as dawn descended upon them. Spitfire fluttered her wings lightly as the cool breeze swept in and chilled the mare’s coat. She closed her eyes, the early morning air ruffling her feathers as she lifted herself into the sky. A pale blue blur gleamed before the sunlight, the only trace of Soarin left. With a flap of her wings, she sped after the trail as it streaked the dawn sky.
As she followed the trail, it led her to the drifting stratus clouds that clung to the edge of the floating metropolis. Warmth flowed through her coat as she felt the chunks of ice melt and mist beneath her outstretched wings. The water droplets glistened in the sunlight as she caught a quick glimpse of the stallion’s pale blue wings.
I’m finally catching him up.
She tucked her wings against her torso as she twisted her body around, flashing the underside of her belly upward as she stretched out her forelegs, feeling the breeze rush across her back in a cool wave of air. Spitfire spun around once more, so her eyes were forward. Soarin was just a few feet away now, leaving a trail of dust which smudged the clear blue sky.
Spitfire was a mere few centimetres from the other pegasus, but as the city drew closer, the mare’s heart began to beat faster – the blood rushing through her veins as her wings pounded with every beat. The pegasus craned her neck as she tried to get a good look at her teammate. She wasn’t going to let him win. Not when she was this close.
As each second passed, she beat her wings stronger. With a clear mind and a newfound sense of determination, Spitfire knew she had what it took to win. Her heart raced. The adrenaline took over. She could feel each centimetre as she surpassed it.
Three…
Two..
One.
Gone. Soarin was now long gone, left in a trail of her own dust. She had felt her wing brush the stallion’s torso, but it had only been for a moment. As Cloudsdale came into view, Spitfire slowed to a glide. The city shimmered in the sunlight, the soft, puffy clouds contrasting with the pink and gold hues of the sunset.
The pegasus dived headfirst into a nearby cloud that drifted near the outskirts of town, nestling her hooves on its smooth, silky surface. With a triumphant grin, she said, “You should’ve seen your face, Soarin – it was hilarious! The way your eyes widened as I passed you, it was—” She stopped mid-sentence as she spun around. “Soarin?”
The stallion was nowhere to be seen. Panic sunk in as Spitfire frantically searched for her friend. She dug her hooves into the cloud and began to dig around in hopes she could find him. But as each second ticked by, she could feel beads of sweat form on her forehead as Soarin remained missing.
She had only wanted to win the race, not lose him forever! Now he was gone. What if he got caught in an updraft of wind and couldn’t fly back? What if his wings had snapped? Spitfire’s stomach churned as she sat there, pondering the possibilities.
With her back turned, she could hear a faint screaming in the distance. But she didn’t turn around. She just sat there. Waiting.
The screaming got louder.
Spitfire didn’t move a muscle.
The searing pain in her ears was intense.
It became almost unbearable.
She couldn’t take it anymore.
Spitfire turned around, just in time to see the terrified face of Soarin as the stallion’s larger body collided with her own. The two pegasuses tumbled across the cloud layer, their bodies a chaotic display of fire and water, like two great forces colliding with one another.
As the mare came to her senses, she felt the sheer weight of the stallion on top of her as she tried to squirm about beneath him. “Soarin?” she asked with a strained breath.
“Yes, Spitfire?” the stallion replied, his face lit up by his wide grin.
“Could you, um… could you please get off me?” she asked, squirming about once more.
The smile quickly disappeared from his face. “Oh. Of course, sorry about that,” he replied, moving off the mare below him.
“Thanks,” Spitfire said as she rose to her hooves once more. “Now, how about some lunch? You said you knew a place?”
“Yeah, but first we need to take a detour,” the stallion replied, turning to face his teammate. “I have some business that needs to be taken care off in town. An old friend of mine, he owes me a favor.”
“A favour? What sort of favour?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at her friend’s vague explanation.
“Yeah, a favour. Now come on, we don’t want to be late!” Soarin exclaimed as he took off into the air.
“Late for what?” she called out after him.
~ * ~
Spitfire gazed up at a sign that hung outside one of the many inns that populated the streets of Cloudsdale, its gold lettering swinging gently in the wind. Since the city had been founded, the Uchchaihshravas Bar & Inn had become one of the oldest but best maintained inn’s in Equestria. Even as a central meeting place, it had become rather popular.
The mare giggled at the tagline underneath that read, "If you can't pronounce our name, it means you're too drunk to be served.” It would seem that the ponies who originally founded the place had a sense of humour, especially when it came to owning and running a business. Back in the days prior to Cloudsdale being built, nopony had a sense to be bold or daring. So, when the Uchchaihshrava brothers built the place, it created a new tradition – one that would be carried throughout the long line of savvy business owners that ran the shops and hostels that occupied the Cloudsdale market district.
As Soarin opened the marble stone doors, an uneasy feeling settled in Spitfire's stomach as her hooves clacked against the hard oaken wood beneath her. Its sound echoed throughout the room, bouncing off the curved ceiling and wooden frames that held the second story in place.
Usually, the bar was packed with ponies who came to drink cider and watch as drunken stallions wrestled on the tables. It would be a rowdy and lively festival, driven by pure rage and alcohol – especially when she was involved. There had been many an occasion after a major Wonderbolts show which Spitfire and the rest of the team would come down to the local watering hole and own the joint. By the end of the night, nearly everypony who had gotten involved had either the fleshwounds or tear stains to prove it. Even if it was just in the name of good fun, there was no guarantee that somepony wasn’t going to get hurt in the process.
However, that morning as Soarin and Spitfire walked through the Uchchaihshravas Bar & Inn’s doors, they were not graced with the usual uproars of excitement and cheers of joy that came from the intoxicated ponies around them. Instead, they were met with the bitter silence that only fills a place after a long night of drinking.
All the tables and chairs were stacked over in the corner, and the only thing that moved was the young stallion tending the bar. The bar in question was situated on the left hand side and was one of the Inn’s most successful sources of income. Not many hostels had bars, so when the Uchchaihshrava brothers decided to build one inside theirs, they were making a bold but smart business choice.
Opposite the bar on the other side of the room was a small stage with an upright piano, a microphone, and a small, wooden stool. During the week, performers from all over town would come to perform their music, poetry, or just try and make other ponies laugh. On weekends, the stage remained empty except for the occasional gig, but that was left for the most desperate of musicians.
The pair walked over to the bar, where the bartender was polishing a tankard. As his eyes glanced up at the ponies who approached him, they widened with excitement.
“Spitfire and Soarin! My two favorite customers, what can I do for ya?” the white mane pegasus asked, putting down the tankard as he greeted the pair.
“Hey, Zodiac,” Soarin said as he took up a stool, “good to see you’re holding up alright. I didn’t know you still worked here?”
The stallion shrugged. “Well, ya know how it is nowadays. My brother and I are not about to close this place down just because business is a little slow. I mean, we’ve been here since this beginning and we’ll be keeping our doors open for as long as Cloudsdale sits in the sky.”
Spitfire took a seat beside her teammate. “I should hope so, Zodiac. I’ve been coming here since I was a filly in flight camp and I would be truly devastated if this was place were to shut its doors. Think of all the great memories we’ve had here!” Leaning in against the countertop, she said, “Remember that time Fleetfoot thought it was a good idea to use the table as stage and the bottle opener as a microphone?” The mare chuckled, holding onto her sides as she wiggled about on her stool.
“Yes, Spitfire,” Soarin replied with a roll of his eyes. “We all remember that story. Now, if you could please stop telling it every time we come here, I would really appreciate it.”
“I’m sorry, Soarin, but it’s just—” she began to say, before bursting into another fit of laughter. Which resulted in the pegasus falling off of her stool.
“So, Soarin,” Zodiac said, stretching out his forehooves onto the bar as he leaned in closer to the stallion. “You obviously came here for more than just a friendly chat. It seemed like when you walked in that you wanted to ask me something. So, what is the real reason you came in this morning?”
“Well, I actually came here today so I could ask a favor of you. After all, you owe me one after that night I helped you tend the bar when your brother Phrixus had a hangover.”
The stallion sighed. “Yeah… I think being the youngest made him a bit of a cheap drunk. Anyway, what I can do for you Soarin? Perhaps you need a little help in finding a mare friend?” he asked as he flashed a mischievous grin at his friend.
“Nah, its not like that at all,” the pegasus chuckled. “I just need some directions to that diner you took us to after last year’s Young Fliers Competition. You know, the one that sold the incredible boysenberry pies?”
Zodiac rubbed his chin. “Hm...I know the place you’re talking about. It’s not too far from here, but Phrixus has always been better at remember names of things. Just give me a minute while I ask him.”
The pony walked out of the bar and over to the narrow flight of stairs that led upstairs. Soarin watched as he disappeared upstairs and into the third room from the right.
“So, Soarin,” Spitfire started as she climbed back onto the stool, “when do you think we’ll be getting out of here?”
“Well, as soon as Zodiac gets back, I promise you we will leave. Okay?”
“Okay. Well, when you’re ready to leave just let me know,” Spitfire mumbled quietly as she laid her head down on the countertop.
A moment later, Zodiac returned. As he descended the narrow staircase, a wide grin grew on Soarin’s face. “So?” the stallion asked.
“So… the place you’re looking for is called Pie in the Sky. It’s a little west of here, right in the centre of town.” Suggesting with his hooves, he said, “To get there though, you’re gonna have to fly up a few streets and then take a left on Grand Sky Boulevard. Keep flying North and you’re there. It’s got a big red sign out front, you can’t miss it,” the pegasus finished as he returned to the bar.
“Thanks so much, Zodiac. You’ve been a real help. I’ll be sure to repay you sometime,” Soarin replied as he turned away from the bar. “Come on, Spitfire. Let’s get going.”
“Alright,” she said as she swivelled off her stool. “Catch you later Zodiac!” Spitfire waved a hoof at the pegasus as she walked off, leaving the pony and the empty bar behind.
~ * ~
Grand Sky Boulevard resided in the heart of the city, in one of the biggest residential precincts in Cloudsdale. Layers of clouds enclosed the space, giving it a somewhat circular shape. Encompassed in the abundant clouds were the extravagant homes of the wealthy pegasi that lived high above the metropolis below.
Nestled among the lower sector of homes, in the Northern heart of the boulevard was the little diner known as ‘Pie in the Sky.’ With its futuristic decor and chilled vibe, it was no wonder Soarin had so highly recommended the place.
As Spitfire and Soarin approached the diner, they noticed the little red sign that hung outside just as Zodiac said it would. The silver plated lettering shone in the sunlight as it swayed in the wind.
A wide grin grew on the stallion’s face as he raced inside, taking a seat at the counter. Spitfire felt the cold marble flooring beneath her hooves as she tucked her wings into her sides. The scent of fresh coffee filled the air as she breathed in the delicious smell of the hot pies that sat on the counter. Standing behind the counter was a middle-aged pegasus mare, who was busy rolling out another batch of pastry.
She watched as her teammate gobbled up the warm, raspberry treat without hesitation. “Spitfire, you’ve got to try some of this, it's delicious,” Soarin said with a large chunk of pie in his mouth. “What?” he asked, as Spitfire raised her eyebrows at him.
“Um, you’ve got a little sauce right here,” she said, pointing to the side of her cheek.
“Oh, sorry,” Soarin replied, as he tried to lick the sides of his face.
The mare giggled at her friend’s failed to attempt to remove all the purple coloured debris from his cheeks. Spitfire turned to face the counter, where a pony in a white apron was waiting. She noticed that a little badge had been pinned to her apron with the name ‘Crescent Mistral.’
“What can I get for ya hon?” the older mare asked, placing a hoof to her hip..
“Just a coffee thanks, I’m not really in the mood for pie,” Spitfire replied.
“One pipin’ hot coffee comin’ right up!” the pegasus said with a nod and a wide grin.
As Spitfire sat and watched, she could feel a tingling sensation as it crawled up her spine. It was as though somepony was watching her...but who? Soarin and her were the only customers there, unless...
Spitfire watched as her drink was poured, the aroma of the coffee filling the air. “Hey, um...Crescent Mistral is it?” she asked as she took a sip of her coffee.
“Yeah, but everypony calls me Mistral because of my white mane,” she replied, suggesting to her mane with a hoof. Raising an eyebrow, she said, “You alright hon? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Um, it’s nothing. I’m fine.” Spitfire said as she took a sip of her coffee.
For a moment, Spitfire tried to enjoy the coffee as it soothed her chilled body. But she still couldn’t shake the feeling that somepony else was here, that they watching her… with the eyes of somepony she knew. She peered into the far corner of the diner, trying to catch a glance of anypony that was sitting there.
“Whatcha looking at,” Mistral asked with a slight irritation in her tone. “Is there a scary monster over there or somethin?”
“Oh nothing, I just thought a saw something. It was probably just the light.” she replied, returning her gaze to her teammate, who was scoffing down another pie.
The older mare simply shrugged as she continued to polish the glasses.
Spitfire smiled as she watched Soarin munch on the pastry, crumbs clung to the edge of his mouth. The stallion had only two true loves; flying, and any sort of freshly baked delicacy. Seeing her friend in such a calm, relaxed state put her mind at ease.
“Are you sure you don’t want any Spitfire?” Soarin asked, as he swallowed a mouthful of pie.
“I’m sure. Um, Soarin?”
“Yes, Spitfire?”
“You have a little...smudge of pie on your cheek right here.” Spitfire said, pointing at a spot on the stallion’s face.
“Oh, woops.” he replied, as he expertly licked away the raspberry sauce from his face.
Spitfire giggled at her stallion friend as he beamed at her, revealing the sticky relish between his teeth.
“Spitfire, I never knew you were so...playful.” Soarin said, as he turned to face his friend.
“What do you mean Soarin?” she asked.
“Well, you’re usually a lot more assertive and focused. I never knew that you were about to relax and let your mane loose. Even now, you’re still full of surprises huh?” he replied.
“I guess so. I’m just so used to being a position where I have to be focused and headstrong, that I’ve never really had much opportunity to enjoy myself. After all, being the Captain of the Wonderbolts requires me to be the strong-willed leader that everypony expects me to be.’ she sighed.
‘When I’m with you Soarin, I know I can be myself and not have to worry so much about coordinating a team of large group of ponies. But rather, enjoy the pleasure of your company. Which is more than anypony could ever ask for.”
Soarin just sat there and stared at her with his wide eyes as he took in what the mare had just said. “Gee Spitfire, you really are one in a million you know that?”
“What are you saying Soarin?” she asked as she raised an eyebrow at the stallion sitting across from her.
“What I’m saying is, that I could never ask for a better friend than you Spitfire. You’re always there for me and you’ve never let the team down. Not once. This side of you, the side that’s more fun and easy-going is perhaps one of the things I like most about you. And today, I got to see that side truly shine.” he replied, as he gave her a warm, sincere smile.
“Thanks Soarin, I had fun too. Now, let’s enjoy some of that lemon meringue pie, I’ve been eyeing since I got here.” she said as she turned to face the counter-top once more.
The pegasus’s nimble body trembled uncontrollably as a draft of icy wind blew in, encompassing the underside of the mare’s outstretched wings. A frigid chill shot down her spine as she glided through the air. Several painful, tingling sensations flowed up from the bottom of her hooves and into her thighs as she winced, the muscles in her forelegs cramping as they became numb.
As Spitfire’s wings drooped to her sides, she could feel an updraft of wind flow from beneath her as she fell. In all her years of flight training, she had not once gotten frostbite. Thus, she was unprepared for the devastating consequences of not showing up to ‘Flight Weather Safety 101’ class back when she was just a Junior Speedster in flight camp.
With the ground racing toward her, Spitfire gently closed her eyes and awaited the inevitable. It seemed only fitting for a pegasus to go out this way, especially one of her caliber. However, fate had already chosen another course for her, for she could feel something brush the exterior of her back legs as the weight of her body shifted.
When Spitfire opened her eyes, they were met with a kind and familiar set of emeralds that shone from behind a pair of flight goggles. The stallion’s sturdy forelegs wrapped around the underside of the mare’s torso as the pair floated toward a nearby cluster of cumulonimbus clouds.
As the mare’s hooves grazed the fluffy surface of the cloud, she felt herself being lowered onto it. Once her hooves were secure on the soft exterior, she turned to face her heroic rescuer. She was met with the humble, but rather proud face of Soarin, who beamed at her.
“Glad to see you’re alright, Spitfire,” said the stallion as he extended a hoof to the pegasus. “You had me worried for a sec there – it's unusual for you to take such a dive.”
Spitfire’s legs ached and her calves trembled as she rose to meet her former teammate, a grateful smile lit across face as she pushed her wild, tousled mane back behind her ears. “Yeah, I know. I guess I just lost control. Thanks for catching me by the way, I owe you one,” she said, bumping the stallion’s side.
“Well, you can make it up by buying us lunch. After that training session, I’m starvin’.” Soarin’s stomach groaned as he flashed a sheepish grin at the mare, who gave a knowing look in return.
“Sure thing, Soarin. Anything for a friend.”
“Great, cause I know just the place,” Soarin replied as he flapped his feathery wings, rising into the air. “It’s a little diner just west of here, in the heart of Cloudsdale.”
As the draft of cool air drifted over Spitfire, she felt a smirk creep its way onto her face as she watched the stallion hover in front of her. “I guess you’ll just have to show me the way, I don’t think I’ve been to very many diners.”
“Don’t worry, it’s not too far. Besides, they make the most amazing food there,” the stallion said as he turned his back to the mare, taking off into the air.
Spitfire watched as Soarin made for the horizon. Far off in the distance, a soft, pale glow formed from beneath a thick barrier of clouds and rose into the air. The first golden rays of sunlight graced the cloud layer as dawn descended upon them. Spitfire fluttered her wings lightly as the cool breeze swept in and chilled the mare’s coat. She closed her eyes, the early morning air ruffling her feathers as she lifted herself into the sky. A pale blue blur gleamed before the sunlight, the only trace of Soarin left. With a flap of her wings, she sped after the trail as it streaked the dawn sky.
As she followed the trail, it led her to the drifting stratus clouds that clung to the edge of the floating metropolis. Warmth flowed through her coat as she felt the chunks of ice melt and mist beneath her outstretched wings. The water droplets glistened in the sunlight as she caught a quick glimpse of the stallion’s pale blue wings.
I’m finally catching him up.
She tucked her wings against her torso as she twisted her body around, flashing the underside of her belly upward as she stretched out her forelegs, feeling the breeze rush across her back in a cool wave of air. Spitfire spun around once more, so her eyes were forward. Soarin was just a few feet away now, leaving a trail of dust which smudged the clear blue sky.
Spitfire was a mere few centimetres from the other pegasus, but as the city drew closer, the mare’s heart began to beat faster – the blood rushing through her veins as her wings pounded with every beat. The pegasus craned her neck as she tried to get a good look at her teammate. She wasn’t going to let him win. Not when she was this close.
As each second passed, she beat her wings stronger. With a clear mind and a newfound sense of determination, Spitfire knew she had what it took to win. Her heart raced. The adrenaline took over. She could feel each centimetre as she surpassed it.
Three…
Two..
One.
Gone. Soarin was now long gone, left in a trail of her own dust. She had felt her wing brush the stallion’s torso, but it had only been for a moment. As Cloudsdale came into view, Spitfire slowed to a glide. The city shimmered in the sunlight, the soft, puffy clouds contrasting with the pink and gold hues of the sunset.
The pegasus dived headfirst into a nearby cloud that drifted near the outskirts of town, nestling her hooves on its smooth, silky surface. With a triumphant grin, she said, “You should’ve seen your face, Soarin – it was hilarious! The way your eyes widened as I passed you, it was—” She stopped mid-sentence as she spun around. “Soarin?”
The stallion was nowhere to be seen. Panic sunk in as Spitfire frantically searched for her friend. She dug her hooves into the cloud and began to dig around in hopes she could find him. But as each second ticked by, she could feel beads of sweat form on her forehead as Soarin remained missing.
She had only wanted to win the race, not lose him forever! Now he was gone. What if he got caught in an updraft of wind and couldn’t fly back? What if his wings had snapped? Spitfire’s stomach churned as she sat there, pondering the possibilities.
With her back turned, she could hear a faint screaming in the distance. But she didn’t turn around. She just sat there. Waiting.
The screaming got louder.
Spitfire didn’t move a muscle.
The searing pain in her ears was intense.
It became almost unbearable.
She couldn’t take it anymore.
Spitfire turned around, just in time to see the terrified face of Soarin as the stallion’s larger body collided with her own. The two pegasuses tumbled across the cloud layer, their bodies a chaotic display of fire and water, like two great forces colliding with one another.
As the mare came to her senses, she felt the sheer weight of the stallion on top of her as she tried to squirm about beneath him. “Soarin?” she asked with a strained breath.
“Yes, Spitfire?” the stallion replied, his face lit up by his wide grin.
“Could you, um… could you please get off me?” she asked, squirming about once more.
The smile quickly disappeared from his face. “Oh. Of course, sorry about that,” he replied, moving off the mare below him.
“Thanks,” Spitfire said as she rose to her hooves once more. “Now, how about some lunch? You said you knew a place?”
“Yeah, but first we need to take a detour,” the stallion replied, turning to face his teammate. “I have some business that needs to be taken care off in town. An old friend of mine, he owes me a favor.”
“A favour? What sort of favour?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at her friend’s vague explanation.
“Yeah, a favour. Now come on, we don’t want to be late!” Soarin exclaimed as he took off into the air.
“Late for what?” she called out after him.
~ * ~
Spitfire gazed up at a sign that hung outside one of the many inns that populated the streets of Cloudsdale, its gold lettering swinging gently in the wind. Since the city had been founded, the Uchchaihshravas Bar & Inn had become one of the oldest but best maintained inn’s in Equestria. Even as a central meeting place, it had become rather popular.
The mare giggled at the tagline underneath that read, "If you can't pronounce our name, it means you're too drunk to be served.” It would seem that the ponies who originally founded the place had a sense of humour, especially when it came to owning and running a business. Back in the days prior to Cloudsdale being built, nopony had a sense to be bold or daring. So, when the Uchchaihshrava brothers built the place, it created a new tradition – one that would be carried throughout the long line of savvy business owners that ran the shops and hostels that occupied the Cloudsdale market district.
As Soarin opened the marble stone doors, an uneasy feeling settled in Spitfire's stomach as her hooves clacked against the hard oaken wood beneath her. Its sound echoed throughout the room, bouncing off the curved ceiling and wooden frames that held the second story in place.
Usually, the bar was packed with ponies who came to drink cider and watch as drunken stallions wrestled on the tables. It would be a rowdy and lively festival, driven by pure rage and alcohol – especially when she was involved. There had been many an occasion after a major Wonderbolts show which Spitfire and the rest of the team would come down to the local watering hole and own the joint. By the end of the night, nearly everypony who had gotten involved had either the fleshwounds or tear stains to prove it. Even if it was just in the name of good fun, there was no guarantee that somepony wasn’t going to get hurt in the process.
However, that morning as Soarin and Spitfire walked through the Uchchaihshravas Bar & Inn’s doors, they were not graced with the usual uproars of excitement and cheers of joy that came from the intoxicated ponies around them. Instead, they were met with the bitter silence that only fills a place after a long night of drinking.
All the tables and chairs were stacked over in the corner, and the only thing that moved was the young stallion tending the bar. The bar in question was situated on the left hand side and was one of the Inn’s most successful sources of income. Not many hostels had bars, so when the Uchchaihshrava brothers decided to build one inside theirs, they were making a bold but smart business choice.
Opposite the bar on the other side of the room was a small stage with an upright piano, a microphone, and a small, wooden stool. During the week, performers from all over town would come to perform their music, poetry, or just try and make other ponies laugh. On weekends, the stage remained empty except for the occasional gig, but that was left for the most desperate of musicians.
The pair walked over to the bar, where the bartender was polishing a tankard. As his eyes glanced up at the ponies who approached him, they widened with excitement.
“Spitfire and Soarin! My two favorite customers, what can I do for ya?” the white mane pegasus asked, putting down the tankard as he greeted the pair.
“Hey, Zodiac,” Soarin said as he took up a stool, “good to see you’re holding up alright. I didn’t know you still worked here?”
The stallion shrugged. “Well, ya know how it is nowadays. My brother and I are not about to close this place down just because business is a little slow. I mean, we’ve been here since this beginning and we’ll be keeping our doors open for as long as Cloudsdale sits in the sky.”
Spitfire took a seat beside her teammate. “I should hope so, Zodiac. I’ve been coming here since I was a filly in flight camp and I would be truly devastated if this was place were to shut its doors. Think of all the great memories we’ve had here!” Leaning in against the countertop, she said, “Remember that time Fleetfoot thought it was a good idea to use the table as stage and the bottle opener as a microphone?” The mare chuckled, holding onto her sides as she wiggled about on her stool.
“Yes, Spitfire,” Soarin replied with a roll of his eyes. “We all remember that story. Now, if you could please stop telling it every time we come here, I would really appreciate it.”
“I’m sorry, Soarin, but it’s just—” she began to say, before bursting into another fit of laughter. Which resulted in the pegasus falling off of her stool.
“So, Soarin,” Zodiac said, stretching out his forehooves onto the bar as he leaned in closer to the stallion. “You obviously came here for more than just a friendly chat. It seemed like when you walked in that you wanted to ask me something. So, what is the real reason you came in this morning?”
“Well, I actually came here today so I could ask a favor of you. After all, you owe me one after that night I helped you tend the bar when your brother Phrixus had a hangover.”
The stallion sighed. “Yeah… I think being the youngest made him a bit of a cheap drunk. Anyway, what I can do for you Soarin? Perhaps you need a little help in finding a mare friend?” he asked as he flashed a mischievous grin at his friend.
“Nah, its not like that at all,” the pegasus chuckled. “I just need some directions to that diner you took us to after last year’s Young Fliers Competition. You know, the one that sold the incredible boysenberry pies?”
Zodiac rubbed his chin. “Hm...I know the place you’re talking about. It’s not too far from here, but Phrixus has always been better at remember names of things. Just give me a minute while I ask him.”
The pony walked out of the bar and over to the narrow flight of stairs that led upstairs. Soarin watched as he disappeared upstairs and into the third room from the right.
“So, Soarin,” Spitfire started as she climbed back onto the stool, “when do you think we’ll be getting out of here?”
“Well, as soon as Zodiac gets back, I promise you we will leave. Okay?”
“Okay. Well, when you’re ready to leave just let me know,” Spitfire mumbled quietly as she laid her head down on the countertop.
A moment later, Zodiac returned. As he descended the narrow staircase, a wide grin grew on Soarin’s face. “So?” the stallion asked.
“So… the place you’re looking for is called Pie in the Sky. It’s a little west of here, right in the centre of town.” Suggesting with his hooves, he said, “To get there though, you’re gonna have to fly up a few streets and then take a left on Grand Sky Boulevard. Keep flying North and you’re there. It’s got a big red sign out front, you can’t miss it,” the pegasus finished as he returned to the bar.
“Thanks so much, Zodiac. You’ve been a real help. I’ll be sure to repay you sometime,” Soarin replied as he turned away from the bar. “Come on, Spitfire. Let’s get going.”
“Alright,” she said as she swivelled off her stool. “Catch you later Zodiac!” Spitfire waved a hoof at the pegasus as she walked off, leaving the pony and the empty bar behind.
~ * ~
Grand Sky Boulevard resided in the heart of the city, in one of the biggest residential precincts in Cloudsdale. Layers of clouds enclosed the space, giving it a somewhat circular shape. Encompassed in the abundant clouds were the extravagant homes of the wealthy pegasi that lived high above the metropolis below.
Nestled among the lower sector of homes, in the Northern heart of the boulevard was the little diner known as ‘Pie in the Sky.’ With its futuristic decor and chilled vibe, it was no wonder Soarin had so highly recommended the place.
As Spitfire and Soarin approached the diner, they noticed the little red sign that hung outside just as Zodiac said it would. The silver plated lettering shone in the sunlight as it swayed in the wind.
A wide grin grew on the stallion’s face as he raced inside, taking a seat at the counter. Spitfire felt the cold marble flooring beneath her hooves as she tucked her wings into her sides. The scent of fresh coffee filled the air as she breathed in the delicious smell of the hot pies that sat on the counter. Standing behind the counter was a middle-aged pegasus mare, who was busy rolling out another batch of pastry.
She watched as her teammate gobbled up the warm, raspberry treat without hesitation. “Spitfire, you’ve got to try some of this, its delicious,” Soarin said with a large chunk of pie in his mouth. “What?” he asked, as Spitfire raised her eyebrows at him.
“Um, you’ve got a little sauce right here,” she said, pointing to the side of her cheek.
“Oh, sorry,” Soarin replied, as he tried to lick the sides of his face.
The mare giggled at her friend’s failed to attempt to remove all the purple coloured debris from his cheeks. Spitfire turned to face the counter, where a pony in a white apron was waiting. She noticed that a little badge had been pinned to her apron with the name ‘Crescent Mistral.’
“What can I get for ya hon?” the older mare asked, placing a hoof to her hip..
“Just a coffee thanks, I’m not really in the mood for pie,” Spitfire replied.
“One pipin’ hot coffee comin’ right up!” the pegasus said with a nod and a wide grin.
As Spitfire sat and watched, she could feel a tingling sensation as it crawled up her spine. It was as though somepony was watching her...but who? Soarin and her were the only customers there, unless...
Spitfire watched as her drink was poured, the aroma of the coffee filling the air. “Hey, um...Crescent Mistral is it?” she asked as she took a sip of her coffee.
“Yeah, but everypony calls me Mistral because of my white mane,” she replied, suggesting to her mane with a hoof. Raising an eyebrow, she said, “You alright hon? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Um, it’s nothing. I’m fine.” Spitfire said as she took a sip of her coffee.
For a moment, Spitfire tried to enjoy the coffee as it soothed her chilled body. But she still couldn’t shake the feeling that somepony else was here, that they watching her… with the eyes of somepony she knew. She peered into the far corner of the diner, trying to catch a glance of anypony that was sitting there.
“Whatcha looking at,” Mistral asked with a slight irritation in her tone. “Is there a scary monster over there or somethin?”
Craning her neck around, Spitfire asked, “Is there anypony else here besides us?”
The older pegasus chuckled. “Why of course there is! How would I make any money if nopony ever came in here?”
She glanced over at the corner once more, to discover that there was in fact a pony sitting in the last seat of the bar. Since the figure was hidden by the dark, overcasted shadows, it was hard to decipher the finer details.
“Um, Mistral? Could you perhaps tell me who that pony over there is?” Spitfire asked, directing the mare’s gaze to the pony in the corner.
“Oh, her?” Mistral tapped a hoof to her chin. “She comes in here every morning and just sits there, staring off into space. Sometimes she might order a pie or two, but I’ve never learnt her name or nothin.”
“Hm. Alright, thanks,” she said with a nod.
Spitfire sat there for a little while, nursing her coffee as she felt the eternal gaze of the pony in the corner. After about ten minutes of silence, where the only noise was the sound of Soarin munching away on his pie, her curiosity got the better of her.
Sliding off her stool, she wandered over to the pony who sat at the other side of the bar. As she approached, the dark silhouette disappeared as a familiar face emerged. She was met with the dark, sunken eyes of Rainbow Dash as they fell on a little spider that crawled its way along the countertop.
“Rainbow Dash? What are you doing here?” she asked, leaning in closer as her eyes widened at the mare.
The pegasus remained silent. Upon closer inspection, Spitfire noticed that the mare’s crimson eyes were dull and her mane was in a state of disarray. She could feel her stomach churn as her heart raced at the sight of the nasty gash on Rainbow Dash’s forehead. Something was wrong.
A few seconds passed in silence. A shiver shot down Spitfire’s spine as she sat down, waiting for some form of response.
Rainbow Dash shifted her weight on the stool as she turned to the mare that sat beside her. “I’m only here for the cheap coffee. Its what wakes me up in the morning,” she said, her eyes gazing off into the distance.
Spitfire tilted her head, sure that Rainbow Dash would’ve been a little more excited to see her. She asked, “Are you okay? You don’t seem like your usual self.”
The mare held her gaze, but eyes were focused on something in the background. “No, I’m not okay. I’m definitely not okay.”
Spitfire could feel beads of sweat form on her forehead, her stomach churned once more as she became nauseated. “Well, would you like to talk about it? Perhaps you could start by telling me what’s wrong?” she asked, extending a hoof to the pegasus as she gave the mare a kind, sincere smile.
“I don’t really think this is the best time, Spitfire. But in short, my life is in ruins,” Rainbow Dash replied with a bitter tone as her eyes returned to the spider, continuing to crawl along the counter.
The mare’s words hung in the air, soaked in by the taste of black coffee and the broken dreams of ponies who had sat at this same diner. It was the place where the drunken, dismal forms of life washed up after too many failed efforts at making their lives in some way more meaningful.
So it came as a surprise to Spitfire to find such a young, talented pegasus sitting by herself at a diner in such a dismal state. For whatever reason, it seemed that Rainbow Dash had given up – something she wasn’t commonly known to do. So what could bring her to such a low point?
The question swirled around in her mind as she sat there, staring at the pegasus’s drooped eyes.
“Please, don’t let me ruin your meal. You didn’t come in here to feel sorry for me,” Rainbow said as she turned away from her.
With a slight hesitation, Spitfire rubbed a hoof to the mare’s shoulder. “Rainbow Dash, I want to help you. Please, if there’s anything I can do. Just let me know okay?”
Shuddering at the touch for only a moment, Rainbow gave a weak nod. “Okay.”
